


Auspex

by Picturemedrowning



Category: Professional Wrestling
Genre: Blood, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Rough Sex, Sad Porn, Smut, Vampire AU, Violence, modern vampires, no cloaks involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 09:37:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2576822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Picturemedrowning/pseuds/Picturemedrowning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth starts to depend on Dean in ways he'd never imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aniukha

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be out in time for Halloween, but as usual I am being horrifically lazy.

Dean didn’t know right away. How could he? It was insane. Completely unbelievable.

 

It happened over a whole year. At the start he thought maybe Seth was sick, or he was going through some real personal shit. Turns out it was a little bit of both.

 

It took a few things for him to start really noticing.

 

The first was when Seth stopped sharing a room with him. Just cleared his shit up into his suitcase and wheeled it down the corridor muttering that they could afford separate rooms now and maybe it was time for Dean to grow up. Dean flipped his middle finger to Seth’s back and didn’t say a single word about how they’ve been best friends for as long as it takes for Dean to feel this fucked up about such a small thing and that honestly it felt like a goddamn break-up to him, or that it was lonely and depressing with just the TV for company because Seth was the only person in the whole world, including himself, Dean could stand to be left alone with for more than two hours a day.

He absolutely didn’t say he’d miss getting drunk with Seth and jerking off together watching porn on his laptop. Or falling asleep in the same bed or Seth making him coffee the morning after because he knew that’s what cured a Dean-hangover; waving it under his nose to wake him, like everything they did on those hot sweaty hotel nights was just normal, guy stuff.

The second thing was Seth in general. He got leaner, stronger, faster. Dean couldn’t keep up with him in the gym or the ring anymore and it made him want to punch things. Like Seth’s mouth. Seth swore it was all down to the fucking recovery drinks that littered the foot wells of their shared cars every time they got back on the road. Dean swore if he even mentioned Crossfit he’d push him in front of a bus. Roman thought it was all in Dean’s head but Dean saw him watching Seth on more than one occasion with something close to surprise on his face. He took bumps that would put better men out for months and he came up groaning and gasping but smiling. A-Okay, nothin’ to see here.

He changed all over. His hair grew out too fast and his eyes got dark and his features sharpened like he was slimming out too much. It made him look like a comic book villain.

The third thing was the time Dean chucked himself into the drivers seat too hard and snagged a nail on his car key.

 

‘Mother fuck-!’

A bright bead of blood swelled and ran down his finger the colour of smashed strawberries. And Seth tutted and grabbed Dean’s whole arm and pulled it towards him. ‘Don’t be such a fuckin’ baby, Ambrose.’ And he sucked Dean’s finger into his mouth and Dean could feel his tongue sliding where his fingerprint was and he swore that had a deeper meaning but he _can’t figure it out right now when Seth’s looking at him like that, hand tight on his wrist, fingers pressing his pulse and his mouth feels so hot-_

He’s three seconds from saying something when he remembers _he’s_ meant to be the weird one, so he shuts up and just watches Seth suck on his finger, eyes black and empty like a shark with its jaws clamped around something still breathing. 

Four seconds later and Dean’s getting a creepy feeling up his back and his skin is super sensitive and he can feel Seth’s teeth now and he rushes ‘yeah, alright that’s enough,’ and snatches his hand back. Seth scoffs a laugh and props a foot on the dashboard waiting for Dean to start the car like its nothing and Dean can see him chewing on his tongue.

 

*

 

He generally wasn’t one to believe in all the dumb supernatural shit that got thrown around on TV and festered away in the teen fiction section of libraries but typing Seth’s symptoms into Google on a dull grey afternoon at the airport gave him one very clear answer over and over.

So when he dropped a silver chain into Seth’s open gym bag one morning, right there next to his water bottle and Seth came back an hour later saying he had the worst headache of his life, Dean knew. He finally got it. Deal, sealed.

*

Since Seth bailed on The Shield and jumped into bed with the Authority Dean didn’t see that much of him, apart from when they were trying to tear each other apart. Dean came to the weird, frustrated conclusion that Seth had kind of an unfair advantage, being what he was. Since he knew, now, for real – it was all he could see or think about and it made his fists clench and his teeth grind and he had to fucking _do something about it._

So when he saw Seth headed into the restroom after a house show in Texas and was still a little jacked on adrenaline, he pulled a deep breath and crowded in after him. Seth heard him and before he could turn a full 90, Dean had the door locked and his back pushed firmly against it.

‘Dean, what-’

‘Shut up.’

Seth motioned what the fuck do you want? - with his hands and face and Dean growled a little as he pressed himself forward and got a fist in Seth’s shirt and shoved him up against the sinks.

‘I know what you are you lowlife little shit.’

Seth had his head back like he was trying to get as far away from Dean as possible. ‘Ambrose you’re insane-’

‘Since when do you call me that? You had no problem calling me Dean when you were rubbing yourself off next to me a few months ago, what happened to us huh-?’

‘Fuck you.’ Seth tried to shove him off and Dean planted his feet and twisted his hand harder in the cotton. He heard threads snap, saw it biting into the skin at Seth’s neck.

‘Yeah, fuck _me_. You’re not as slick as you think, _Rollins_. I said I know what you are. I worked it out.’

Seth’s face changed. A curve tilted his mouth, his whole body relaxed and he looked like Dean was about to be the wrong end of a bad joke.

‘I’m plenty slick.’

‘So you’re not denying it?’

Seth’s face was a picture of conceited happiness. It made anger swell inside Dean and he wanted to rip Seth open and fucking scream at his insides _I know what you are and you’re not real to me anymore-_

‘You sound even crazier than usual. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Dean was quiet a moment, hovering between white-hot fury and disbelief. Something snapped in his chest. Dirty fighting was always an option. Always.

'Alright, that’s fine. So you won’t mind if I smash my hand open and bleed all over your shirt. You won’t care. You wouldn’t fucking blink-’

Seth swallowed and his eyes were dead on Dean and Dean could feel cool breath on his face. Seth’s smile was fading and his voice was low and quiet and too forced and it got shaky towards the end. ‘I don’t give a fuck what you do.’

Dean gave a little smirk, leaned to the side and punched directly into the mirror behind Seth’s head. The glass shattered and Dean took a few steps back, clutching his knuckles with his free hand and Seth flinched a little but kept his cool for at least twenty heartbeats.

Until Dean lifted his hand into the air to check the damage and blood ran hot and fast down his forearm and dripped onto the tiles. Seth cleared his throat and shifted his feet and his eyes were fixed on the mess of red – and Dean couldn’t fight a smile.

‘What’s wrong golden boy? Is it me or did it get hot in here?’ Dean teased, inching closer to Seth like he was holding a steak in front of a lion.

‘Dean.’

‘What? _What_ Seth? You feelin’ uncomfortable?’

Seth swallowed again and breathed out hard like he was trying to calm himself down but it was too late and Dean knew it.

‘If you’re into blood play you can just say it.’

‘I’m not, its not-’ Seth looked like his skin was on fire, like he was trying to push himself through the wall so he wouldn’t lunge right at Dean and bite his throat out. Dean’s stomach was twisting with fear and excitement and something else, something ignited by how he could do this to Seth; make him feel like he was losing his control-

‘If you just owned up to begin with we wouldn’t have to do this,’ Dean said, singsong and still smirking.

‘Dean, back off alright? I mean it.’

‘Who was it? Who made you like this?’

‘No one, I’m not like anything, Dean, fuck, just-I don’t wanna hurt you-’

‘That’s cute. Was it Orton?’

‘What? Does it matter?’

Dean shrugged and watched Seth’s eyes follow thick drops of blood from his elbow to the floor. Imagined Orton pushing Seth’s hair back from his neck and sinking his teeth into the artery there, imagined the noise Seth would make-

‘Do you wanna taste me?’

Seth glared at him, like he was on the verge of saying no but the truth was forcing its way out of him, taking him over, shutting his rational brain down.

‘Because I’ll let you, if you want. If you wanna know what I taste like properly, not just a little bit, I mean-’ Dean tilted his elbow up in the air and caught a smear of blood on his finger. ‘Just nod your head; just tell me its true. That’s all I want.’

Seth swallowed again; eyes flicking from Dean’s face to his finger and back.

‘Tick-tock Seth, all this blood, going to waste.’ Dean shook his hand roughly and sprayed it on the floor like something from a slasher movie and was dimly aware he was having the time of his life.

‘Yes or no, let’s go pretty boy.’ He licked his finger and Seth’s mouth opened just a little and Dean knew he had him.

Seth nodded.

‘Good, now tell me.’

‘What? Dean. Come on-’

‘Come here, and keep your shit together, and tell me.’

Seth pushed away from the sinks and took a step, his eyes were huge and black and his lips were parted and Dean felt a little ridiculous for expecting fangs. But he held his ground and waited. Seth’s fingers were twitching and his throat was working up and down.

‘I want to taste you.’

‘Do you wanna bite me?’ Dean locked his gaze with Seth and felt heat throb through his body.

‘Yes,’ Seth faltered, took a shaking breath. ‘I want to bite you.’ It was almost pleading, almost a whine. 

‘If I let you, are you going to give me something in return?’

Seth was drifting so Dean snapped his fingers in front of his face. ‘Hey. Fuckin’ answer me. If we’re doing this I want something out of it.’

‘Yeah – yeah, okay. Anything.’

‘Anything?’

Seth reached his hand out and grabbed Dean’s arm, scary strong, stepped to the side and turned him easy as anything. Dean’s ass hit the sinks and his shoulder knocked more glass loose from the broken mirror. Seth with his back to the door now, slid his hand down Dean’s stomach and palmed his cock through his sweats. The shock of it made Dean twitch a little - suddenly it didn’t matter that this wasn’t what he had in mind because fuck, it was working just fine for him.

Dean pressed a laugh and pushed his hips up into Seth’s open hand. ‘Okay, yeah, you haven’t changed that much after all.’

Seth looked like he was going to implode and Dean maybe took a tiny bit of pity on him, raised his blood soaked arm into the air, hand next to his head and shrugged a shoulder.

‘Come on then.’

Seth ducked his head and opened his mouth and licked long and slow up Dean’s forearm, his eyes slid closed and he breathed a fucking moan right there against the wet skin. Dean bit down on his lip and Seth closed his mouth around Dean’s wrist, tongue curling and sweeping and Dean felt teeth, sharp but light and he accidentally sighed Seth’s name into the empty room.

Seth’s fingers dipped slow over the waistband of his pants and Dean shoved them roughly down to his thighs with his free hand, still watching Seth licking around the little jut of bone at his wrist, red staining his lips, his white hair washed out pink on the ends where it dragged through the blood his mouth had missed.

Seth got his hand fully around Dean’s cock and started stroking, just how Dean did it himself, a light upward twist, and with a burst of heat in his gut he knew Seth learned that from watching Dean get himself off and didn’t care if he knew.

‘Fuck, Seth.’

Seth was licking over the back of Dean’s hand, right there just inches from his face and he was making these noises, soft moans and hard breathing and Dean watched the way his lip dragged over the skin and his tongue slid along the slice in his knuckles and the sting of pain went straight to his dick. His arm was the colour of washed-out rust and Seth had blood on his neck and smeared over his cheek and Dean was going to come just from looking at him.

He got a hand in the back of Seth’s hair and pulled his head back and saw maybe a flash of teeth that were longer than they should be, and Seth’s eyes were heavy like he was drunk and he slipped his thumb over the head of Dean’s cock just to prove he was paying attention and Dean’s whole body tensed and his words stumbled out of his mouth low and uncontrolled –

‘I wanna come, just bite me,’

Dean let Seth’s head go and it dropped to the crook of his neck and Seth started kissing and licking just below his jaw, speaking quiet and careful. ‘Where do you want it?’

‘Anywhere, just don’t fuck- don’t fucking kill me.’

He heard Seth laugh against him, felt him twist his wrist and grip a little harder and Dean pushed a choked breath out of his mouth instead of what he wanted to say which was _please_.

Seth nuzzled against the curve of muscle between Dean’s neck and shoulder and he felt a little fear coil in his gut. Seth bit down and pain burst through Dean and he felt hot blood run a single stripe down his chest and groaned _fuck_ through gritted teeth -

‘ _Mmh, god_ , _Dean,_ ’ Seth was murmuring and sucking and swallowing and it _hurt_ , but Dean liked being hurt, always had, but maybe was afraid to ask if someone could bust his lip before they fucked him and now he didn’t have to because Seth was _hurting_ him to make them both feel good and it didn’t matter what Seth was or wasn’t- and when Dean got his hand back in Seth’s hair and jerked it, Seth moaned so loud it made Dean’s toes curl.

‘I want to taste you when you come.’ Seth breathed, hurried and wet sounding.

‘God, yeah keep talking.’

His words came between licks and light sucks and they were so loud in the room they filled Dean’s head and he was floating on the edge, held there by the burning ache on his shoulder, stretching him out, making him plead silently and fight for breath and he never intended it to go this far-

‘You feel so fucking good – I want you on your back and I wanna bite your thighs, fuck, Dean- you’re so – you look so perfect – you make me fucking weak – I can’t stop thinking about you - I want to know what you taste like when I’m fucking you-’

Dean came with a rush of breath and strained curses and Seth’s name like liquor in his mouth.

Seth stayed latched to his skin like he’d found a new addiction and Dean’s stomach was covered in come and he hurt all over, just trying to get his pulse back to normal. The realisation that Seth was a – fuck no, he wasn’t even going to say it – that Seth was different now, struck him hard and sudden and he felt like he had a scorpion crawling over his throat. 

Maybe he’d been mind-fucked as well as hand-fucked but he wouldn’t hold it against Seth. Dirty fighting was always an option, after all.

He pried Seth away slowly and clamped a hand down over the wound on his shoulder while pulling his sweats back up, mess and all. ‘Okay, alright I think you’ve had enough for today.’

Seth wiped his mouth and his hand on his jeans and took a couple of steps back, avoiding Dean’s eyes, dazed, like he was coming down from a trip. Dean thought maybe that’s what it would be like, because he felt the same.

‘Did I?’ Seth motioned loosely to Dean’s shoulder. He sounded out of breath. ‘Did I hurt you?’

Dean looked at him a moment. ‘I wanted you to.’ And Seth nodded, resigned, looking guilty as hell but satisfied.

‘So, uh.’ Dean checks his shoulder for fresh blood flow and sees only a little. ‘Maybe we should leave at different times, wouldn’t want anyone thinking we were foolin’ around in here.’

Seth manages a small laugh and finally meets Dean’s gaze again. ‘I don’t really know what to say.’

‘It’s alright. I got what I wanted.’

‘A handjob? Trip to A&E?’

‘An answer, fuckface.’

Seth pushed a hand through his hair. ‘Okay well. You know you gotta keep quiet, or I’ll have to kill you, right?’

Dean didn’t know if he was joking or not, and didn’t really care. Who would believe him anyway?

 

 

 

 


	2. Quixotica

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you’re dead inside and that’s what I like.  
> I know you’re dead inside but you make me feel alive.

_-_

 

_Hey fucko, cut myself shaving._

 Dean stared at his phone and waited for  _message sent._  Chucked it on the side and glowered at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.  _What the fuck are you doing._  Shirtless, a red smudge spreading slowly under the curve of his jaw. He didn’t owe Seth Rollins shit. Especially didn’t owe him any favours, or a meal. It wasn’t like he was at the point of opening his vein into a pint glass - but here he was, heart beating in his mouth, nerves spiking through his stomach, listening for the knock on the door he somehow frantically hoped would come.

Dean didn’t get off on Seth drinking his blood; frankly he was more than a little scared of that part of him. But he got off like nothing else on _Seth_ , his desperate little noises and stuttered moans, Dean’s name breathed into them sometimes like it was the only word he remembered. And Dean got off on hurting himself. On doing stupid dangerous shit, on making himself bleed and burn and break. So really it was killing two very big, weird birds with one stone. Maybe it was just the fucked up kind of dynamic their friendship needed. If Seth was lying out of his ass about thinking of Dean every waking minute, of  _needing_  to taste him, this was an easy way to find out and whatever happened, Dean could get on with his fucking life.

Because he hadn’t slept, he’d barely eaten; he’d survived on coffee and Gatorade and jerking off in the shower imagining Seth sucking his cock for the last two days and that was really nothing new – but now those dirty back-of-his-mind fantasies had a chance of coming true and it made him half hard just thinking about it.

He rubbed himself through his boxers, just a little, enough to get comfortable.

There was a knock on the door and he heard it swing off the latch. Swallowed, cleared his throat quietly. Five seconds of silence and Dean remembered all the stuff he’d seen on Buffy in a flourish that brought a quick incredulous smirk to his mouth and he called out, ‘You can come in.’

He heard the lock click shut and then a few deep, even breaths later Seth was behind him, his hair was still wet and Dean’s skin was bleached pale next to his in the florescent light. He watched Seth in the mirror, watched him step further out of the shadow and into the room and stop six inches from Dean’s back, just staring at their reflections.

‘I thought you guys and mirrors didn’t mix.’

Seth swallowed and smiled weakly. ‘I think that’s a myth.’

Dean didn’t say  _you’re meant to be a fucking myth, you dick_ , but he was thinking it, and fleetingly hoping the mind reading stuff was also horseshit.

‘How’s your shoulder?’ 

‘See for yourself.’

Seth moved forward a little, pressed himself lightly against Dean and ran a finger over the red bumps of the bite he’d left there.

‘You’ll live.’

Even though Dean had a few inches on him this touch made him feel small, like he was draining away, sinking through the ground. He felt heavy, strangely passive.

‘If you had powers, like, the force-’

‘-This isn’t fucking Star Wars, Dean.’

‘Okay but if you did, would you use them on me?’

‘Only if you wanted me to.’

Dean nodded. Weird answer. ‘So, you wouldn’t take advantage of me?’

Seth’s eyebrows hooked together like  _are you serious?_ ‘How much of an asshole do you think I am?’

Dean shrugged and the motion pulled Seth’s hand away from his shoulder. It slipped to his bare waist and stayed there. ‘Why not though? Because you know I’d beat your ass afterwards, that’s why.’

‘Sure, yeah.’

Dean was wondering if Seth was one of  _those_ who could snap his neck like a twig when Seth pressed himself a little insistently against Dean’s ass. Reminding him why they were both there. It made him blink, bite gently at the inside of his cheek, but he kept his eyes focused on Seth’s in the mirror and begged himself not to push back.

Seth’s other hand smoothed slowly up his spine, following the shapes of muscle right up to the back of his neck and into his hair. He knotted his fingers in it and pulled Dean’s head back, and Dean couldn’t help the hard rush of air that whispered past his lips.

‘I know what you want.’ Seth said, and his voice, it made Dean clench his fists up because this wasn’t how it was meant to go at all – he was meant to be in charge, he was meant to be making Seth quiver and plead and fight himself to keep calm. But Seth seemed calm. For the moment. His fist in Dean’s hair was shooting stinging sparks from his scalp right through his body and his voice was so close to Dean’s ear now-

‘I can hear your pulse,’ and the desperate edge was back; Dean felt Seth’s open mouth moving over his neck, lips just grazing lightly across his skin. ‘It gets so fast when I touch you.’

Dean was struggling to breathe, struggling to do  _anything_  apart from let Seth have him and something prickled in the back of his mind because this wasn’t right, he had more restraint than this- ‘Stop it, turn it off you fucking asshole-’

Seth huffed a laugh into the space behind his ear. ‘Sorry.’ And Dean blinked suddenly, felt a cold shudder pass through him, waking him up. Seth licked gently at the hinge of Dean’s jaw, and Dean knew he was holding himself back from tasting the smear of blood there because he wouldn’t do it until Dean said he could.

‘I should kick you out for that.’

‘But you won’t. I know how much you want me, I can smell it on your skin.’

 ‘You don’t know shit.’ Dean’s voice faltered, just a little.

 'I know this makes you hard,’ And Seth clenched his fingers tighter in Dean’s hair, twisted his head to the side and pulled until it hurt – Dean choked on a moan, tried so hard not to let his eyes fall shut but this was it; this was what he wanted and he was struggling to remember why he’s supposed to  _hate_  Seth again- ‘Like you weren’t already.’

Seth’s hair was trailing over his shoulder, the breath from his mouth ghosting over the exposed side of this throat and Seth must have been able to hear his blood hammering through the big fat Carotid artery there like thunder - his other hand slid from Dean’s waist down and across his hip, reaching and rubbing over the tip of his cock right through the fabric of his boxers. He gave another little pull on Dean’s hair as he did it, and Dean knew he was gone. Utterly fucked. Like a fly in a spider’s web.

‘You look so good.’

‘Seth,’

‘Mmh.’

‘Let me-’ Dean struggled in Seth’s grip, twisting around to try and face him because he had no control like this, none at all, turning his head and body and letting the strain on his hair intensify until Seth caught up and let him move. Dean hooked his fingers in the belt loops of Seth’s jeans and hauled him in close. Pressed himself forward, hips first, then mouth and Seth’s hand dropped from his hair when Dean kissed him.

It was a sharp, agitated, wet kiss. Seth was breathing loosely, letting Dean grind his hard-on into the curve of his hip and pushing back against it - Dean tried to hitch his leg up to get a better angle but there was no room so the off rhythm continued and he shuddered from it, pressing back a groan when Seth bit lightly down on his lip.

He tilted his head back.

‘What are we doing here?’

‘Dean.’ A catch in Seth’s voice now, like he’s in pain and maybe he was.

‘You can control yourself, yeah?’

‘You asked me to come here.’ Seth was trying to get his mouth on some skin again and Dean was mostly failing to stop him, his dick was heavy and hot and so distracting but he had to hear Seth say it because he was damaged and greedy and no one ever  _needed_  him before-

‘Is it me?’

Seth growled, low and rasping and Dean felt it shake through him, vibrating in his ribcage. ‘You know it is.’

‘I’m the only one?’ He didn’t want it to matter so much but he had this weird fleeting feeling of wanting to be  _special,_ wanting to be Seth’s -

‘Ughh – yes, you’re the only one. Please-’

Dean managed to get his hands on Seth, pushed him back a few inches, arms braced. This was what he expected. All the calm collectedness was gone like it was never there. Seth was just an  _animal_  and an image of him wearing a collar and chain flashed, unwelcomed in Dean’s head and he pushed it away, fast. ‘Calm the fuck down a sec. This is fucking important.’

Seth’s forehead glittered with light dewy sweat, his eyes huge and shining darkly and his lips parted just a little. Dean swallowed hard. There were definitely fangs. Maybe half an inch of white and Seth’s top lip curved slightly over them. It made Dean’s cock twitch and he didn’t know why.

‘It’s really fucking hard for me to focus,’ Seth forced out. ‘When I can hear - I can smell your blood because you’re – excited, you’re turned on and I know how good you taste now and its like I’m dying of thirst. Its fucking painful, Dean, please- don’t fuck with me.’

‘I’m not, I just wanna make sure-’

Seth shoved himself forward and Dean’s arms crumpled in against his chest. God, he was strong. He was inhaling deep at the dip between Dean’s collarbones and letting his tongue touch hot and wet to the place where the skin jumped with each beat of Dean’s heart. Dean was out of his depth. Probably only still alive thanks to Seth preserving a shred of his old humanity, or maybe just because Seth is maybe a little hooked on the taste of his blood, and realizing this made a shiver of exhilarated fear tremble through him.

‘You’re scared of me.’ Seth murmured, pressing his face to Dean’s chest, stroking his palms flat down Dean’s ribs.

‘You’re fucking scary.’ Dean defended, a lump growing in his throat. Seth straightened slowly and looked him in the eye.

‘I want you to trust me.’ Dean felt that weird flare of sympathy for him again. ‘I’m sorry about my teeth.’

‘Kinda like a vampire boner, right?’ the word didn’t seem weird anymore. It seemed right.

‘I guess.’

‘So, maybe we should get each other off.’ Dean didn’t really know what he was doing when he reached up and slid his index finger into Seth’s mouth. ‘But I wanna get some ground rules down first.’ Seth’s eyes were like black fire and he let Dean push his bottom jaw down a little. His throat bobbed as he swallowed dryly.

‘Make me come and I’ll let you feed.’ Dean pressed the pad of his finger up against the point of a fang and they were sharp, like the edge of a piece of broken glass and he caught himself worrying about Seth shredding himself open on them. ‘Earn it.’

Seth breathed against him, shallow, tight and measured and Dean was thinking how pretty he looked with something in his mouth, how much he wanted to fuck that mouth and he was  _so_  hard - Seth smelt it on him because he whined, desperate and deprived in his throat.

Dean leaned in and kissed Seth again, slipping his finger past their lips and slowly, carefully replacing it with his tongue. He pushed against the ridge of Seth’s teeth and the small points of them. The fact that Seth couldn’t hide them seemed like a good indication he was hovering on the edge of ripping Dean’s head off.

‘You know, I did actually cut myself shaving.’

Seth planted his hands on Dean’s shoulders and pushed, a spike of pain radiating from the old bite mark and he murmured ‘Down, get down on the floor,’ into Dean’s mouth.

They sunk to the tiles, Dean as obedient as he could bring himself to be, so close they were sharing breath and Seth’s eyes were burning into him and the back of Dean’s head hit the shower stall as they half slid, half fell to the floor. He spread his knees and Seth settled between them and the ground was cold on his bare skin but he barely noticed because Seth was kissing him again, curling his tongue softly into Dean’s mouth and letting small gasps fall between them. Seth’s left hand pushed down to support his own weight, elbow locked and biceps straining and his right ran down Dean’s side, over his ass and to the back of his thigh.

‘You’re still wearing jeans,’ Dean huffed and Seth nipped at his bottom lip and sat up, kneeling. ‘And a shirt.’

‘I don’t care.’ Rushed and impatient.

Seth pulled him a little closer and pressed his dick right up against Dean’s ass. Dean found himself writhing down on it and Seth’s cheeks were pink and he was panting like he’d been running.

‘God I can’t wait to taste you.’ He reached between Dean’s legs and Dean was only a little embarrassed at how far they fell open.

‘Yeah, yeah remember our deal-fff _uck_ ,’ He lost the air from his lungs. Seth was circling his fingers gently behind Dean’s balls with a look on his face like getting him off was the most important thing in the world. Dean had never been fingered by anyone other than himself and he didn’t think Seth would really  _do_  it, but he was still pressing and rubbing and it felt so fucking close – the fabric of his boxers was making him want to scream and if someone didn’t touch his cock he was going to die-

‘Seth,’ His voice was cracked and it sounded like a plea.

‘This is what you like, huh,’ Seth tested, and everything felt too tight, they’d gone from zero to sixty in three seconds and it was making Dean dizzy and he was back to having no control; laying there with Seth touching him, making his body twitch and his fingers claw at nothing and damn, he knew he asked Seth to earn it but this was-

‘I’ve been trying not to lick that fucking blood off your neck for the last ten minutes Dean,  _come_   _on_.’ Seth’s voice shuddered and all Dean wanted was to cling to the last of his dignity so he spat-

‘Ask nice, pretty boy,’

And Seth nearly damn hissed at him. ‘ _Please_ ,’

The moment Dean nodded his head Seth was on him, dragging his head to the side by his hair again, mouth closing around the cut under his jaw and sucking at it, humming with satisfaction.

He rocked his hips and it was as if they were fucking with clothes on, and it wouldn’t be the first time Dean dry-fucked himself but with every insistent press of Seth’s body the temperature of his skin seemed to rocket - there were too many clothes involved and the zip of Seth’s jeans were rubbing against his cock and it was just the right side of hurting _._

He was sucking Dean’s neck raw, flicking his tongue at the tiny cut there, tightening his fingers in the mess of Dean’s hair until it made him breathe a hardly-there desperate little sound. He wanted to say something, ask Seth to – what? To stop? To go harder? Pull his boxers down and fuck him? Nothing in Dean’s head made sense and for a few seconds he forgot what they were doing, why they were there, what Seth  _was_ and he didn’t know what he wanted except to fucking come so hard he blacked out.

So he squeezed his thighs around Seth instead, and all it did was push them harder together and Seth must’ve been sucking blood right out of Dean’s skin like some extreme version of a hickey and fuck, he’d have to pull an excuse for that one out of his ass later because there was no way in hell no one would notice – Seth was sucking so hard it made Dean’s breathing weird and stunted and he felt trapped and helpless and he started to laugh.

‘What,’ Seth huffed open-mouthed against his jaw. ‘You think something’s funny?’

Dean was struggling to catch his breath and he was thinking of something witty to say when Seth leant up a little and grabbed his chin in his hand. Fingers and thumb pressing hard against his teeth and Dean couldn’t stop the smirk that slunk to his lips –

Seth hit him in the face. A quick smack in the mouth that sent his head snapping to the side, and a sharp hot sting shooting over his cheek. Dean subdued a moan but he wanted more of that, over and over – he blinked the stars from behind his eyes, touched fingers to his lip and saw blood.

He had half a second before Seth’s tongue was dragging over his lip and Seth’s hands were clamped either side of his head, holding him still. He was rutting against Dean, riding him rhythmic and hard and Dean’s legs were sliding open again and he found one of his hands twisting in the wet tangle of Seth’s hair and the other on his ass, up down, up.

‘ _Jesus_ , Seth.’ Dean mumbled what he could between the clash of their mouths. He didn’t like the way it sounded. Uncontrolled and honest and too real.

Seth wasn’t kissing him. There was no affection there. He bit and licked and sucked at the split in Dean’s lip. If there was a difference between Seth hurting him and Seth using him Dean didn’t fucking care. But it made his face warm and his breath came stumbling out of his mouth like this throat was closing.

‘God, fuck,  _yes_.’

‘Yeah?’ Seth was fervent, and when he moved higher and let Dean’s head go, he saw that his mouth was red and wet and he watched Dean’s face with dark heavy eyes that were all pupil.

‘Y-yeah.’

Dean’s hand slipped from his hair to push his own out of his eyes, sloppy and fast and he leant up to kiss Seth before he really knew he was doing it. ‘I like it when you hurt me,’ he murmured, not even sure why or how but maybe his brain had packed its bags and relocated to his dick. Words were slipping out of his mouth without his head getting a look in – ‘Seth you’re so, fuck, yes, you’re so’- he didn’t know what Seth was because he was so  _everything_  at that moment, Dean could smell his deodorant and feel his hair draping cold and wet on his neck, trace the dip of muscle in the side of his ass through the worn black denim, hear the low noises escaping his lips as they met Dean’s over and over, taste blood on his tongue- ‘I don’t care what you are, I don’t, you’re fucking-’

‘Shut the fuck up.’ Seth groaned against him.

 A smile split Dean’s face again, faltering a little when Seth pressed his cock right up against Dean’s, slow and hard. ‘Seth-’

'I said shut  _up_.’ Seth growled now, and he propped himself back up on one arm and slapped a hand over Dean’s mouth. ‘You understand me?’

Dean was so alive. He shrugged, hummed  _fuck you_  between Seth’s fingers.

Seth released Dean’s mouth and hit him again, the back of his knuckles smacking viciously against his lower lip and Dean let himself moan this time, hard and loud as he needed. It was like taunting a snake because you loved being bitten. Because you were addicted to the venom. 

Maybe those two things were true for Dean because he was closer to coming than he wanted to be. When Seth bent to lick the stripe of blood off his chin Dean started to fucking  _crave_  the screaming searing pain of Seth’s teeth ripping into his skin.

The zip of Seth’s jeans was shoving against his cock again and it wasn’t enough. He hooked his fingers into the belt loops at Seth’s waist and pulled him down, rocked him back up hard and faster and just how he fucking wanted it. Seth was braced above him, his mouth open, tips of his teeth jutting out under his lip.

‘Come on princess. You can do better than that.’ Dean gasped. He tasted metal in his mouth.

Seth batted his hands away. Took Dean’s face in one hand and bent down again. Twitched his hips and Dean nearly bit through his own tongue. He was so fucking close, he was so fucked, so fucking-

‘Do you wanna come?’

‘Mhmm fuck yes, yeah I do.’

‘Yeah? Are you gonna come when I bite you?’ Seth’s voice was so low it was barely there, barely sounded like him, smooth and dark and dangerous. This whole fucking thing had gone sideways pretty much the second Seth had touched him and Dean thought that said something about him, because Seth could kill him any time he wanted - But here they were and Dean’s fingers were curling into his palms and his stomach was full of fire and he had never wanted anything so much in his life.

‘ _Jesus_  fuck, yeah. Hurry the fuck up.’

Seth swept his hair over to one side and sunk into the space between Dean’s shoulder and neck, the same place as last time and this was going to fucking  _burn._

He licked wet and warm over the mess of his last bite. Opened his mouth wider and bit down. Dean felt the sharp points of the fangs puncture him and hot bolts of pain shot through his bones, down his back to his fucking fingertips and when Seth jerked his hips again he came, cursing and swearing and moaning, digging his fingers into the meat of Seth’s hips. Seth was sucking on the wound, humming deep in his throat, and Dean was trying to remember how to  _exist_ ; his whole body was twitching and his head was full of fog and waves of tingling pressure were barging through his body.

‘Oh my god,’ he breathed. His muscles were burning, his mouth slack. ‘Oh fuck.’

Seth hadn’t let up any pressure from his dick or his tongue and Dean was going to die. His goddamn heartbeat hurt, his fucking shoulder  _hurt-_

‘Fuck, Seth.’ Dean shoved hard at his chest and maybe a little of his skin caught on Seth’s tooth because it hurt worse the second air got to it. Dean gritted his teeth and inhaled hard.

Seth knelt, rocked back on his heels and fell shakily against the opposite wall. There was blood on his mouth and he wiped it on the back of his hand.

‘Sorry.’ He stuttered, dazed.

‘Shhh shut up its fine.’ Dean was staring at the ceiling, letting the lights burn white circles into his eyes and waiting until his thighs stopped shaking. The silence stretched out into minutes and Dean was content to lay there forever.

‘Now I get why there’s no such thing as a free lunch.’

Dean spat a laugh and Seth snorted. He got to his feet slowly and adjusted his still-hard dick in his jeans.

‘Want a hand with that?’ Dean propped up on his elbows and tried not to be embarrassed by how much bodily fluid was leaking slowly out of him.

‘Wha- oh, nah.’

Dean shrugged and it spouted pain across his shoulders. He inched back and sat up, propped himself against the shower wall. Seth had made a real mess. ‘You need to learn to let go after the moment’s gone.’ He muttered, twisting to look at the bite.

‘That’s why I said sorry.’

‘’S okay.’

‘My moment lasts longer than yours I guess.’

Dean looked up at him standing there, come smeared over the pocket of his jeans, blood drying in a smudge on his throat.  _What the fuck happened to us_  was on the tip of his tongue and he swallowed it down.

‘I don’t know what happened to us.’ Seth said, loud in the small bright room.

A small smile picked at the corner of Dean’s mouth and Seth caught it, matched it with his own.

‘You want me to clean you up? It’s the least I can do.’

Dean shook his head and pushed his way to his feet. ‘I’ve cleaned my own come off myself before, shock horror, and I’ll probably do it again.’

‘I meant your shoulder. But okay.’

‘You should go.’

Seth nodded. Dean didn’t think he looked disappointed or offended and he wouldn’t have really cared either way. They weren’t friends. Not anymore. What they were didn’t have a name and he was A-Okay with that.

‘It’s weird now isn’t it.’

A laugh escaped Dean and for a tiny second he thought this, whatever it was, could work one day. Maybe Seth wasn’t that different after all.

But that was insane. Totally fucking ridiculous.

‘Yeah. It’s weird.’

Dean turned away from Seth and wrenched the shower door open. He expected to be alone when he looked back, but Seth was still there, hovering, like he felt bad for doing what Dean had begged him to do.

‘You asked me something, before.’

‘Did I?’ Dean stuck a thumb in the waistband of his boxers like a warning that he was about to be naked and Seth should fucking  _leave_  already.

‘You asked me who it was, who made me like this.’ Seth swallowed and for a moment he looked like the person Dean used to fall asleep next to. He looked sincere.

‘Uh huh.’

‘You were right, it was Orton.’

Dean turned and yanked the tap on and the sound of water filled the room. He held his hand under it for a few seconds until he felt it turn hot. ‘I always knew he was fucking shady.’ Steam started to billow into the air.

When he turned back, Seth was gone.

 


	3. Camazotz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised I would leave this alone but apparently I'm not done with it yet. 
> 
> This is basically a metaphor for how Dean lets Seth use him, and take everything from him, all the time. It was meant to be smutty vampire porn thank you goodbye but here we are taking up residence at 7.5k, angst fucking city, as usual. 
> 
> Enjoy x

_I can't help but wanna feel your teeth against my skin._  
If you've got fangs, then sink 'em in.  
If you've got fangs

_Then sink 'em in._

 

_

 

Dean’s phone buzzed under his pillow. He waited a count of ten before he decided there was nothing better to do and reached for it. Its screen glared viciously bright in the dark room and he read through half-closed eyes-

_You awake?_

How many of his most memorable and catastrophic mistakes had started with a message just like this? He shifted onto his back, phone held over his face. Twenty-seven days since Seth had spoken to him, touched him, acknowledged his existence, made him come on the bathroom floor of his hotel room. Bitten him.

  _No_

1:18am and Dean hadn’t been sleeping anyway. The room was hot, the air con was broken and the sheets were sticking to him, tangled around his feet in a tight uncomfortable mess. He was tired and aching deep in his bones but feeling restless. Weirdly incomplete, unsatisfied. The kind of feeling a run wouldn’t fix. Seth was awake too. Seth was thinking about him. It made Dean’s fingers itch; made him want to smash things.

_I need to talk to you._

Dean stared at his phone until the shapes and colours burned onto the backs of his eyes. Things were surfacing in his head, soft strange memories of times he wasn’t even sure existed in this same universe. _You awake?_ used to mean _I’m bored and lonely and horny_ and Dean never resisted it. Never wanted to. Even if it meant travelling and working on three hours sleep; he still woke up with a stale taste in his mouth and a headache blooming behind his ears and the smell of Seth on his clothes, not entirely sure what they’d done in those early hours but it usually felt better that way. He wondered if Seth remembered that too. He hoped he remembered it all in its minute, agonising, human detail. He hoped it kept him up at night. Maybe it did. He blinked in the dark and gripped his phone a little tighter. Reality was like a slap in the face.

_So talk_

There was a time when Dean really hated Seth. Honestly, a dark, sharp hatred that manifested as anger and recklessness. He clung to it for months until he realised it made him weak. Until he realised all it meant was that he _missed_ Seth even more, right in the pit of his chest, right to his centre. That was before. Now he didn’t know what he felt. There probably wasn’t a word for it.

Pissed off, needy, furious, desperate, vengeful, confused, fragile, scared. Conflicted.

_Come to my room, don’t be a jerk about it._

Seth wasn’t the same. Dean knew that, of course he did. Sometimes he got a viciously real urge to call Roman and tell him everything. Then he imagined the conversation in his head, biting at the corner of his thumbnail he could _see_ Roman’s _you’ve got to be fucking with me_ look, and he swallowed the words. _I’ve been hooking up with Seth and he’s been drinking my blood_ sounded even fucking crazier than it felt in person.

_We’re not all mind readers_

He wouldn’t pretend that he hadn’t been thinking about it. A lot. Dean wasn’t much of a liar and he couldn’t shy away from the fact that thinking about Seth biting him, hurting him, _needing_ him, made his heart thump heavily in his chest. The dreams were worse. Or maybe they were better, because they were more frequent but more intense. Dreams about a man with long dark hair that danced wetly over his face as he fucked him - Seth was in his head all the time, chipping away at his willpower. But when had Dean ever denied him anything? When had Dean not given Seth exactly what he wanted? Before and even after, when he knew what Seth had done, what Seth _was_ , when had he not loved every fucking second of it? _This is so fucked up, this is so-_

?????

_Your room number, idiot_

_417_

And just like that it was decided. If he had felt a single shred of reluctance towards this meeting, and embarrassingly he wasn’t sure that he had, it was gone now. He climbed out of bed and stretched in the dark. Cracked his neck and ran his fingers absently over the raised skin on his shoulder. Wondered if he should check his hair before he left, splash some water over his face. As he pulled his shoes on he knew he couldn’t bring himself to even look his reflection in the eye.

The hotel was warm and dimly lit. Heavy with the sound of sleep. The thick carpet muted his footsteps and a thought bloomed, sudden and unwanted in his head – _no one knows where you’re going_. A small shard of fear poked at his gut and he felt stupid for it. If he ended up drained and dead in Seth’s bathtub it wouldn’t matter either way; it wasn’t as if he was really leaving anyone behind. _Roman, you should tell Roman_ , kept flashing into his head like a siren, like a warning.

‘Fucking idiotic.’ He muttered to himself as he reached the top of the stairs and pushed quietly through the glass doors of the fourth floor.

417 shone innocently in brass and Dean stared at it for too long, feet rooted to the floor like he was daring himself to turn around. He didn’t want to knock. He didn’t want to initiate. He wanted Seth to want him more. Nerves spiked down his spine distractingly and he wiped clammy hands on his jeans.

‘You gonna stand out there all night?’

Seth’s voice was low and quiet but clear through the door and Dean jumped a little at the sudden sound of it. His brain was trying to remember something, trying to say _this is familiar, listen_ \- and Dean was ignoring it as much as he was able but it caught hold and pulled him under, and suddenly he was back two years, standing in a spot just like this with a six-pack of beer under one arm and his toothbrush sticking out of his back pocket and warm, apprehensive heat spiralling in his stomach. _You gonna stand out there all night?_

‘How did you even know it was me?’ He said to the polished wood, voice too loud and brash in the quiet.

‘I can hear your heart beat through the door.’

Dean shook his head and rubbed a hand over his mouth. ‘Bullshit. Could’a been anyone.’ His voice didn’t sound like it belonged to him. ‘You can’t tell a person by their heart beat.’

Because it was impossible that Seth knew him that well – even though Seth knew him better than anyone had in Dean’s entire life – no one knew a person that well.

‘You can come in, you know.’

The door swung open easy and quiet and when Dean was inside he leaned back against it, clicked it shut, one palm resting on the handle. The room was just like his - dark and too warm and thick with the sour smell of someone who hadn’t slept. Seth was sitting on the bed with his back against the wall, knees bent and elbows resting on them, arms out straight. The fingers on his right hand were twitching back and forth. He didn’t look at Dean. His hair was back in a messy bun and in any other situation Dean would have made fun of him for it.

‘You can’t recognise a person by their heartbeat.’ He said again just to make sure.

‘How would you know?’ Seth glanced at him; half a smile pulled at his face and then it was gone.

‘You look like shit.’ It was out of Dean’s mouth before he really registered it, but that didn’t make it any less true. Dark circles, skin pale and dewy with sweat, Seth looked like he was running a fever. ‘You sick or something? I’m sure there’s some other lapdog who can fetch you some-’

‘We need to talk.’ Now his fingers were tightening into a fist, clenching and releasing, clenching and releasing. There was a weird uncomfortable feeling climbing over Dean’s shoulders.

‘I’m here aren’t I?’

‘Can you sit down or something? I’m not going to attack you.’

Dean wondered briefly what he smelled like to Seth then, if he sensed the uneasiness radiating from him. If it was ruining his appetite. Dean took a few steps and crossed his arms, tried to set his mouth in a way that said he wasn’t fucking freaking out. Seth was watching him.

‘We have a problem.’

‘That’s a goddamn understatement.’

‘I think…Jesus.’ Seth rubbed his eyes with one hand. He looked as uncomfortable as Dean felt. ‘I think I’m hooked.’

‘You’re what?’

‘On you.’

Dean blinked at him, felt a laugh spiral up through his chest and crushed it back down.

‘Like. Addicted.’

‘You have got to be _fucking_ kidding me.’

‘I wish I was.’ Seth’s head hit back against the wall and he glared at the ceiling. ‘I really fucking do.’

Dean’s mouth opened but no words managed to make it out, and he stood there staring like an idiot while Seth died a thousand deaths over and over. His cheeks were a little pink and now Dean knew this had to be one big fuck-up joke. It wasn’t real. Of all the things in the world, this was absolutely not happening.

‘I’m getting withdrawals.’ Seth was looking bleakly at the dark tv screen now like he couldn’t meet Dean’s eye and Dean couldn’t blame him.

‘This is a fucked up way of getting me to suck your dick, Rollins.’ Was all he managed to say. Seth rolled his eyes and shifted a little.

‘We both know all I’d have to do is ask.’

_No one knew a person that well-_

Dean had nothing, so he uncrossed his arms and took a few more steps towards the bed. _You’re right, you’re so right-_

‘So what are we gonna do about it?’

‘Dean you don’t have to suck-’

‘I mean your problem.’

Seth took a breath. ‘It’s real bad. I can’t compete, I can’t train, I can barely fucking walk-’

‘I don’t really feel that sorry for you.’ Even as Dean said it, he knew it was basically a lie.

‘Look, I don’t want a pity party. I just…Ah fuck. I don’t _want_ to do this, okay? You think I want to be here? In this fucked up situation?’

‘I don’t know, do you?’

Seth looked like he was going to laugh for moment and something flashed behind his eyes. ‘No. I don’t.’

‘But?’

‘But I think…I have to ask. I have to try.’

‘So spit it out.’

‘I would…really appreciate it, if you would let me… uh, bite you. Again.’

‘Appreciate it? You gotta do better than that.’

Seth squirmed and Dean tried not to enjoy himself too much. ‘I’d like it. Okay, I’d really fucking like it. I need it. I need you.’

Something sweet and sick was rising in him, something like satisfaction, something like payback.

‘Why.’

Because Dean had needed Seth in those first few months. Needed him so vitally and so badly sometimes it felt like a physical pain. Like an illness. It was like Seth had cut off the air supply to Dean’s lungs and he was slowly suffocating, and all the time Seth was just watching with gold glinting at his waist and an oily smirk on his face.

‘Imagine the most amazing taste you ever experienced.’

_Your mouth, your skin, your-_

‘Now imagine you’re dying of thirst, or starving to death and nothing you eat or drink makes any difference.’

Dean clamped his mouth shut, tried not to say _you brought this on yourself you selfish fucking prick_ and chewed the inside of his cheek.

‘It makes no difference because once you have that one perfect thing, nothing else compares. Nothing else really exists. Without it, it’s like…kinda like you’re disappearing. I don’t know.’

And Dean had to let that one sit for a few seconds because it was crashing through his head, deafening, paralyzing. _That’s what you did to me; you did that purposefully to me, you-_

‘I know I did a shitty thing.’ Seth looked at him, properly, for the first time. ‘I know saying sorry won’t fix it. I know I fucked up. I know I’m not your… _me_ , to you now. But I’m asking for help.’

Your _me_ , as if Seth had ever, ever fucking been Dean’s anything, apart from his headache, his sickness, his reason to bleed. Looking at him sitting there in his grey sweat pants and black t-shirt, hollow and vulnerable and weak and trying to be genuine, something shifted in Dean’s head, sunk through his spine to his gut, pushed him forward until he was shaking his jacket off his shoulders, pulling the shirt off over his head, kicking his shoes onto the floor and crawling up the mattress. He parted Seth’s knees with one hand, settled in close and felt Seth’s entire body stiffen, heard his breathing stop like he didn’t trust himself to inhale. His eyes were wide and still and dark. He wanted to hurt Seth then, so very much. Crack him, split him open.

‘I’m gonna let you do this, okay. Because I like your mouth, and I like your dick and I like the way you make me feel. Not because I regret what happened to you.’

‘Okay.’

‘Because you fucking broke me, Seth. I don’t owe you shit. And you don’t get to go back to being an asshole to me after this, otherwise you can wave goodbye to these little top-ups, okay?’

‘Okay.’

‘I swear to god I will drop you like you dropped me. I can live without you, you made sure of that already.’

‘Dean, I-’

Dean cut the words off with his mouth, pressed strong and sure to Seth’s like it was the most natural, obvious way to end the conversation. For a second it felt the same, it felt like he remembered. Seth’s hands came up to the sides of his neck the same way they always used to when he was drunk and trying to tell Dean something important, whiskey on his breath and a slack smile on his mouth. Seth would try to hold him still, hold him down because he said Dean was always moving and it made him dizzy - Dean never knew what Seth wanted to tell him because how was he supposed to concentrate on anything but that sight? How long had he felt like this? How long had he known Seth?

It was different though, and Dean had to keep reminding himself of that again and again, like it was so easy to forget, otherwise he was going to do something truly fucking stupid like forgive Seth for everything that he’d done.

Seth’s mouth was still and warm and his fingertips pressed up through Dean’s hair to the back of his head and tangled there in the bed-messy curls. He breathed out slowly, through his nose like he was steadying himself and Dean let him do it, calm, though his heart was crashing inside his ribs so hard he felt sick.

‘You don’t have to.’ Seth murmured against his lips, getting some air between them, eyes down, lashes so dark and long Dean nearly said something dumb.

‘I want to.’ Dean replied, finally letting Seth hold him still just this once, a quiet moment while they both gathered themselves, allowed themselves to admit to things they shouldn’t. Dangerous, ridiculous, tempting things. ‘I want you. I can’t help it.’

‘Why?’ Seth’s voice hitched like it got caught in the back of his mouth and Dean had to look him in the eye because it didn’t really sound like him at all. He pressed the pad of his thumb against Seth’s bottom lip, stroked it down to the stubble on his chin. It was oddly tender and Dean regretted it. Felt like following it with a slap.

‘You fuckin’ know why.’

Seth’s eyes flicked over his face, lingered on his mouth for four whole seconds. He moved forward and kissed Dean, honest and tangible and so un-Seth that Dean felt a smile tug at him, fleeting and dubious, before Seth was pushing again, pushing him back upright, rising with him until they were just pressed together, kneeling on the mattress. Seth’s tongue sliding slow and warm into Dean’s mouth, fingers twisting in his hair not hard enough to hurt yet, one thigh nudging shamelessly in between Dean’s. That familiar swoop in his gut that made his pulse jump and spike in his neck, that sensation of falling, of losing his grip. Seth made it so easy to let go.

Dean sunk back on his heels, ran his hands under Seth’s shirt and rucked it up around his chest. Drove his face against the skin of his stomach, hot and hard and scratchy-soft with half grown-back hair. Seth’s hands fell to his sides and he let Dean mouth up over his hip, his ribs. When he licked a little stripe up over his nipple Seth’s back twitched and he breathed a quick cut-off sigh.

‘Dean,’

‘Off, off take this off.’ Dean jerked at the edge of Seth’s shirt and fought the warm faintness filling up his head. He wasn’t sure who was meant to be desperate, dying and weak anymore. It was inebriating, the whole thing; Seth’s body up against his, needing him, dying without him, the tight burn that had started somewhere deep in his stomach and behind his spine, spreading slow and vicious through him. It made him want to say things. But he’d already said too much.

The shirt landed on the floor and Dean’s hands moved like he wasn’t controlling them, spanning insatiably over Seth’s chest, up and along his shoulders, the rough and prickly calluses on his palms dead to the touch of smooth, soft tanned skin. Seth was still kneeling limply, hips tilted forward like an invitation. Dean had seen him shirtless too many times to count. But not like this, ever. Not loose and willing and pliable, not so he’d noticed the rise and fall of his chest, the thudding below his collarbones, the way his skin puckered into goosebumps when Dean’s teeth caught his nipple as he dragged his mouth anywhere he could. Of course not. But he noticed now, in inconceivably distracting detail-

‘Dean,’

‘Uhh?’

‘ _Dean_.’

He looked up into Seth’s face and saw something there – guilt? Apprehension?

‘Second thoughts?’

Seth’s hand came up to the side of Dean’s head and stroked it, maybe involuntarily, because his fingers stilled and he swallowed, blinked twice and let it drop again.

‘There’s something else.’

Dean leaned back, braced for the hit and felt naïve for thinking it could have been so easy.

‘The thing…the thing is, I think I’ll need more than last time. From you.’

 Dean’s eyebrows knitted together and that little sharp jab of fear lunged in his stomach again. _Should’ve called Roman._

'How much more?’

‘I don’t know. A lot, probably.’

How long had Dean given Seth before? Ten seconds? Twenty, before he shoved him away, clamped a hand over the wound and pretended it didn’t hurt? How much blood should he lose and still be able to walk back to his room afterwards? How much did Seth deserve?

‘You know what you’re doing?’

Seth nodded, a small jerk of his head that seemed like he was sure, but he didn’t want to be. ‘You just have to get your heartbeat up. I need adrenaline.’

‘Okay, so.’ Dean bit the inside of his lip and stroked his hand down over Seth’s hipbone. Dug his thumb gently into the groove of it. ‘How am I doing right now?’ this was so ridiculous and outrageous and he didn’t know why he was bothering to play along but maybe it was fun, and maybe it would hurt and maybe it was perfect-

Seth tilted his head to the side a fraction and a muscle jumped in his jaw. ‘Not that great. I’m almost offended.’

Dean dipped his fingers under the waistband of Seth’s sweats and found nothing but more skin. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

‘Better.’

He looked up and Seth was _smirking_ , proud of himself, and Dean felt weak and enthralled and giddy, fucking stupid and reckless and disgustingly easy-

‘Nothin’ to worry about then. Just do your thing.’ Dean managed, shrewdly refusing to be the embarrassed one. This back and forth of power was making him unsteady, as it had been and as it always would be between them.

‘It’s not enough. I’m…’

‘You’re not enough for me? You know that isn’t true.’ Jesus fucking Christ he had to keep his mouth shut. He was tired, he was turned on, he was out of his depth with Seth Rollins _again_ , and that was all. He wasn’t-

‘I could choke you.’

He gave up holding it in at that. A quick bark of laughter and he scrubbed a hand erratically over his face, trying to rub the smile away, or force some common sense back into his head. Trying to ignore the fact that those words went straight to his dick, making no detour at all to his brain.

‘This is insane. This is fuckin’ nuts.’

‘If you want out, you better tell me. Because I need to call Randy and ask him what the fuck I’m meant to do-’

‘I didn’t say I wanted out.’ Dean cut in, sensing something sharp run through him at the thought of Seth and Orton together. It wasn’t jealousy, and it definitely wasn’t possessiveness. ‘I just want you to make it worth my while.’

‘You’ll come so hard you forget your own name, how about that?’

He said it so nonchalantly, so easily Dean might’ve missed it if he wasn’t paying attention. He sucked in a shaky breath and dragged his eyes up Seth’s body to his face. There were tiny tips of white peeking out underneath his top lip. Dean swallowed past the urge to run the fuck away there and then. He was hard, and desperate, and he needed this.

‘You’re lucky I’m into some weird shit.’ Dean untucked his feet from under him, shifted so he was sitting with his knees up, just like Seth had been. ‘And you’re lucky I trust you, because I shouldn’t.’ He hooked two fingers in Seth’s sweats again and pulled. First the fabric just stretched and Dean got a serious eyeful, and he _swore to god_ his mouth didn’t water, then Seth moved with him and Dean let himself fall until his back hit the bed and Seth was crouched over him, hovering between his knees barely touching him at all. ‘I mean if anyone was going to choke me to death, it would be you, wouldn’t it?’

‘I’m not going to-’

‘Relax,’ Dean shoved his hips up and Seth tipped forward until his face was inches above Dean’s. ‘I’m playin’.’ Dean’s hand swept around Seth’s hip again to his ass and he grabbed a handful, mercy Jesus it was truly a hand– _full_ , and ground Seth down onto him, the sudden roughness of it making Seth’s breathing stutter just a little. ‘You’re really easy to wind up, you know that?’

Seth rolled his eyes, made a sound genuinely close to a snarl and grabbed Dean’s jaw with one hand. ‘I’m glad you’re enjoying prolonging my pain. You’re an asshole.’

Dean’s face split in a true smile, mouth all squashed up by Seth’s fingers. He thrust his hips up again, obscenely, blatant and deliberate. ‘I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.’

‘Are you done?’

‘Yeah, I’m done. You going to undress me or what?’

Seth shoved Dean’s face away roughly as he let go, sat up with his dick pressed against Dean’s ass so hard that he swore he could feel it through their clothes, and started to undo Dean’s jeans. Dean had a vague thought that they should have laid some ground rules down before they both lost their minds but Seth was probably past that point and Dean had never been there to begin with.

‘This buckle is ugly, I hate it.’ Seth muttered as he slid it undone and pulled the belt off. He flung it across the room and fell on Dean again, shoving everything down over his hips, aggressive, like his clothes were the biggest inconvenience in the galaxy. His jeans were tangled around one shin and his boxers around one knee and Dean didn’t care because he was staring at Seth above him, and he looked awful, yes, ill and weak but god, the words shoving their way into Dean’s head over and over and dangerously close to making it to his mouth were - _pretty, pretty boy, god you’re fucking so – I want to-_ and what an awful, embarrassing disaster that would be. Almost as bad as the way Dean’s breath came hard and fast in heavy gasps and the way it stopped momentarily when Seth’s hand wrapped hard and tight around his cock with no warning at all.

‘ _Jesus_ ,’

He was aware of how naked he was; way more naked than Seth and that was a problem, it made it unbalanced and weird and he always knew he was more submissive and he felt okay with being vulnerable but he needed the heat of that body against him - he needed _something._ But it was difficult to care enough to say anything, difficult to do anything at all but ride it out with Seth jerking him off slow and exact, eyes roaming his face, tongue rushing out to lick absently at the corner of his mouth. There’s something to be said about getting a hand job from someone who can basically read your thoughts-

‘Jesus,’ Dean breathed again, the muscles in his stomach clamping up right to his core, tightness spreading to the tendons in his thighs and down his ass.

Anything would have been better than ‘Yeah? You like that?’ coming out of Seth’s mouth then because Dean nodded his head and _obedient_ slammed into his brain like a freight train and he hated himself for it. He was _not_ that, not for Seth.

Seth was hard though, Dean could see it through his sweats and that was something. He didn’t deal well with being the only one falling apart. He reached past Seth’s forearm, flexing gently in the dim light, to grope at him and Seth flinched away, hitched himself higher. Dean rose up onto one elbow and kissed him quick and hard, more like just pressing their mouths together than really _kissing_ but he groaned against Seth, a dumb little whine that turned his own cheeks hot to hear.

‘Seth,’

Seth butted his jaw against Dean’s to make some space. ‘I don’t need it.’ He twisted his wrist on Dean’s cock to make a point and Dean _almost_ didn’t jolt.

‘Come on,’ He murmured, ‘it’s okay if you want it.’

Seth was quiet and Dean felt his breath, damp and sweet puff over his neck. ‘I’m already taking too much from you.’ Dean laughed again, not at Seth, but at the entire situation. The irony. When had Seth ever felt bad about taking fucking _everything_ from him before? He knocked his forehead against Seth’s. Groaned his frustration. That heavy tension was coiling in the backs of his legs and behind his navel and he wanted Seth to feel it too. He wanted them to be _together_ in this at least.

‘Why are you so scared to let me touch you?’ Dean dropped his voice right down to a pitch that was frankly filthy. ‘I wanna help you feel good again.’

‘I’m not scared.’

‘Okay then.’ He bit lightly at Seth’s bottom lip, tasted the metallic bitterness of him. Licked his way into Seth’s mouth, prising him open, softening him. His tongue brushed the edges of Seth’s teeth and it was exhilarating, chilling. He ran his hand up Seth’s back, dragging his nails sharply along the ridges of his spine.

‘I haven’t – in a while.’ Seth breathed against his jaw. Dean ducked his head and pressed his open mouth to Seth’s throat. Touched his tongue to the stubble-rough skin.

‘What d’you mean you haven’t in while?’

Seth groaned at him, annoyed, desperate, distracted. ‘I’ve had other stuff on my mind, believe it or not.’

‘No wonder you’re so fucking sour all the time.’ Dean muttered, and reached hurriedly into Seth’s sweats, pushing them low on his hips. He was _so_ hard, all muscle and straining tightness. His dick was hot in Dean’s hand and when he gripped and stroked his thumb over the tip Seth faltered – made a broken little sound that tore Dean’s chest up and flooded his nerves right to his fingertips.

‘Fuck, Seth.’

It wasn’t as weird as he imagined it would be. In fact it made him want to buck his hips up and _fuck_ something and their fists kept bumping together and Seth was moaning with his mouth shut like he didn’t want Dean to hear but he couldn’t help himself.

‘How am I doin’ now?’ Dean murmured. Seth’s eyes flicked between his for a few moments. He swallowed and thrust Dean’s head to the side, rough and nearly painful, and licked wide and quick up the curve of his neck. Dean completely failed to stop the little shocked sound that burst stupidly from his mouth. He forgot how ridiculously strong Seth was – a forearm across the side of his face, pressing him down and there was no way he was going anywhere. Seth breathed in, a whole lungful, and his exhale was shaky.

‘You’re doin’ okay,’ he replied, his open mouth hovering over Dean’s pulse, voice smooth but strained. ‘Just like that.’ He sucked gently on Dean’s earlobe; tongued flat and wet down the curve of his jaw and a shiver ran up through Dean, cold and sudden. It made his feet tingle and his legs stiffen and he grabbed at Seth’s bicep uselessly with one hand and squeezed his cock with the other. Seth let his eyes slide shut and breathed hotly in the crook of Dean’s neck, seemed to forget himself for a moment because he almost whimpered-

‘Fuck, god _damn_.’

And Dean was immediately furious with himself that they waited so long for this. If this was here all along, it could have been – they could-

‘I wanna taste you, I need to Dean, fuck.’ Seth was mouthing gently at Dean’s neck, points of his teeth drawing lines lightly over the skin. ‘I need to so badly.’ He slid his arm back over Dean’s face and pressed his fingers into Dean’s hair, made him look up into his eyes and tugged on it lightly.

Dean was filled with the urge to praise Seth, _good boy; you’re doing so good,_ _just a little longer-_ but instead he let himself breathe a little harder, ran his free hand up over Seth’s chest and snaked his middle finger into Seth’s wet, panting mouth. He slid the pad over one of Seth’s teeth, hard and quick and the sharp sting of pain told him he’d cut it. Seth let out a quiet gruff cry and closed his eyes tight, sucked Dean’s finger way back into his mouth up to the knuckle.

He let go of Seth’s cock and pulled Seth’s hand away from his own. Gripped them both together and flicked his hips up, fucking into his palm. Instantly thankful for having big hands that he always thought were kinda clumsy and ungainly, he closed his fist around them both as tightly as he could and started to move. Seth’s ribs convulsed as he breathed a fast little moan around Dean’s finger. He flexed it against Seth’s tongue; let him taste what he needed. Just enough to make him serious, enough to make him lose his cool, enough to move things along because Dean was filling with heat like his body was burning from the inside out, like his bones were coals and his muscles were ash. Warmth bloomed on his skin, flushing his cheeks and neck and chest. He wanted to come so badly it was making his toes curl and his feet kick out on the bed. Seth’s dick was smooth and hard against his and he was thrusting erratically into Dean’s hand with small jerky movements.

‘I’m ready, come on,’ Dean encouraged, and when Seth looked at him again his eyes were so dark they looked black. He pulled his finger away and knotted his hand in Seth’s hair, blonde and brown, twisting and messy. ‘Come on, come on.’

Seth stared down at Dean a few moments longer, and Dean was so close to the edge that bright shards of pressure were coiling quickly in his stomach, winding tighter and tighter. He hooked the tie out of Seth’s hair, letting it fall loose over his face. Grabbed some and twisted it around his knuckles like tape and pulled hard. Seth’s head jerked to the side and he groaned out loud.

‘Come on, hurt me.’ His wrist thrust and flexed fitfully and Seth was just watching him, his lips parted, hands braced either side of Dean’s head and Dean thought for a second maybe they could both come just like this and how maybe that would be enough, maybe it didn’t have to go as far as they both needed it to- but he knew better. Seth grabbed Dean’s arm by the wrist so hard the bones popped audibly and planted it on the mattress above him. Wrapped the other hand right around Dean’s throat and started to squeeze. His palm was flat, the tip of his thumb and forefinger pressing down into the mattress. It wasn’t like being in a chokehold. Dean had experienced enough of them to know this was something else entirely. This was animalistic and terrifying and probably the hottest thing he’d ever experienced. His dick was slick and Seth was fucking up against it, no rhythm at all but enough, more than enough.

Shivers were pounding through his body, one after another, straight from his brain to the pit of his stomach and he sucked in a tight breath and struggled through a thick stuffy throat -

‘Fffuck.’

Seth started to grip harder and no breath was coming or going at all then. Dean was choking and it felt like his head was floating off his body, he felt light all over and heavy at the same time and when Seth’s mouth touched the crook of his forearm he came so hard his eyes rolled right back in his head. His hips bucked twice and his back came up off the bed, curled tight and stiff with tension. He didn’t even feel Seth break the skin but he heard his moan like it was inside his own mind, drawn out and guttural, fucking dirty and loud and Dean would have made a noise just like it if his larynx weren’t being slowly compressed-

His hand fell sticky and wet to his stomach and his skin was searing all over and his head was thudding and Seth’s hand was still there, crushing him _one handed, just one hand he could kill me with one fucking hand -_ and his stomach was a knot of fear and something else, something visceral and good and electric -

He can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, Seth was still biting him and his arm started to ache all the way down as the veins in his forearm emptied, numb and clinical and Seth’s mouth was clamped down on him like a steel trap, his throat moving and working as he swallowed thickly. Black fog curled at the edge of Dean’s vision and his fingers at Seth’s knuckle were limp and useless -

*

 ‘-My god, oh my god, fuck, fuck, fuck-’

Dean cracked an eye open and his brain kicked itself awake all at once. Seth was above him, his mouth red with blood, eyes searching his face. ‘Oh thank fuck.’ He breathed, moving back, and stared up at the ceiling. For an insane second Dean thought he might cross himself.

‘You fuckin’ choked me out.’ Dean croaked and _fuck_ his throat hurt. He tried to sit up and the world tilted sideways. Everything was stinging and throbbing.

‘I thought you were fucking dead, holy shit.’ Seth sounded scared, truly, honestly panicked. Dean touched a hand to his face, felt a film of sweat slick on his forehead.

‘I should punch you.’ He mumbled, raising his head up just enough to see a stripe of blood running darkly down his elbow and onto the sheets.

‘I probably deserve it.’

Dean blinked and coughed and let his heart rate settle. Craned his neck and peered at Seth sitting at the other end of the bed, breathing like he’d just finished a work out. ‘What the fuck’s wrong with you?’

‘Nothing. I just, you, uh-’ he motioned to Dean’s arm and closed his mouth tightly.

‘You want some more?’ He was dreaming, or dead, or something because he did _not_ just say that out loud. Seth swallowed and the muscle at his temple twinged. There was red in his hair again.

Dean felt like he’d been run over by a coach. A headache was working its way up from the base of his skull and taking hold behind his eyes. There was come drying on his chest.

‘Are you serious?’

‘Move your ass before I change my mind.’

Seth shifted and crawled down the bed again, tentative now. It was weird and awkward and Dean wanted to laugh but he didn’t have the energy. Seth looked Dean in the eye when he bent and licked the blood from his skin. It was gentle and hot at the same time and Dean was getting way too used to this. There were two little neat punctures to show for it all. Seth was getting smarter.

When he was something vaguely close to clean he pulled his boxers on without lifting his shoulders higher than an inch off the mattress and Seth watched him quietly, chewing on the inside of his lip. Dean felt like he wanted to say a million things and they were all trying to cram their way up his gullet at once. Bruised and sore, he sighed and propped himself on an elbow.

‘What are we doing here?’

Seth stayed quiet.

‘I mean. What the fuck?’ Dean started to smile and it made his face ache. ‘What the actual fuck, Seth? Do we need to talk about this?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Are you?’

Seth ran his fingers through his hair. Scraped it back up into a bun again and rubbed his face. It smeared the blood on his mouth up in an orange smudge to his cheek. ‘Yeah. I am.’

‘For what?’

Dean wanted him to say _for everything,_ but he knew it would be a lie.

‘For hurting you so much. All the time.’

And that was the kicker Dean wasn’t expecting.

‘I know you like it, sometimes. And I know sometimes you don’t. But I can’t help it. I need to hurt you just like you _need me to_. And I know you need it, Dean, because I can smell it on your skin, I can fucking hear it in your voice. I can taste it.’

‘What does it taste like?’

‘Are you serious?’ 

Dean nodded.

‘You wanna know?’

‘Wouldn't you?’

Seth looked at the corner of the room, like he was trying to remember something. ‘It’s hard to describe.’

‘Try.’

He took a breath and tilted his head to the side. Dean was starting to find the whole thing a little endearing and he had to stamp that out right fucking now.

‘It’s like…everything is ditch water. And you’re single malt. But, better. A million, million times better.’

‘That’s ridiculous.’

‘Yeah,’ Seth managed a smile. ‘Yeah, I know. You asked me to try.’

‘Was it…enough? This time?’ Dean felt like he’d taken some kind of fucked-up test and was waiting for the results. You pass, you fail. He managed to sit up, slowly.

Seth gazed at him and his eyes were soft and his body was so inviting. He seemed so nearly human again. Dean wanted to kiss him.

‘Yeah.’ It came out as a sigh, relieved and almost a laugh, like Dean was stupid to ask. ‘It was.’

‘So you want me to suck you off or nah?’

Seth laughed for real then. ‘I mean…’

‘Fuck you; think I’m sucking you off after this shit storm. You need your head checked.’

‘Yeah, I thought so.’ 

Dean got his feet under him and stood up shakily. ‘I’m having a shower.’

‘Good idea, you’re pretty gross.’

‘You better jerk off while I’m gone. For your own good.’

In the bathroom with the water running and the door locked Dean let himself fall against the wall, allowed the tiles to chill his still-burning skin. He was in too far. He was opening himself up. He fell for the fear in Seth's voice after he blacked out. He was leaving his back unguarded, just so Seth could slip the knife in one more time. He liked the thought of it _. You need me to hurt you._

‘Get it together Ambrose,’ he slapped the side of his cheek gently. ‘Get a fucking grip.’ He stepped into the shower and let the water jet down onto his face. ‘You don’t need him, you don’t need him.’ He repeated it over and over until he felt clean. Until he felt like it was true again. He grabbed a hand towel on the way out and pressed it to the little dots of red on his arm, oozing blood in tiny beads.

Back in the room and Seth was sitting on the bed with his legs crossed, watching the TV. Still no shirt, just a change of sweats and a much cleaner, less macabre face. Dean’s heart was in his mouth while he got changed. He was so light-headed it was like he was drunk. _You don’t need him, you don’t need him._

‘I’m gonna go.’

Seth glanced up at him. ‘Uh, yeah. Okay. If you feel better.’

Better? Dean felt worse. He didn’t have his belt but suddenly he had to get out of there. He wanted to kiss Seth, badly. So badly that he was actually close to doing it. The clock on the bedside table read 3:21am. ‘Yeah. I’m fine.’

‘Okay. See you around then, I guess.’

Dean nodded and it made him ache. ‘Yeah.’

‘Thanks, for…you know.’

‘You got it.’

The door closed softly behind him and he started to walk, faster than he should, but he was scared he’d turn around and go right back to Seth if he hung around any longer. He got too close, that was it. Tricked himself into thinking Seth was good for him, or that Seth deserved him at all. _You don’t need him, you don’t-_

‘Dean.’

He spun and nearly tripped on his own feet when he saw Seth padding barefoot towards him, rushing, hurrying, almost jogging. Dean felt himself moving back and this was no psycho-force bullshit, this was all him. This was his heart slamming against his ribcage like a wolf in a trap, this was his lungs, still feeling empty at the sight of Seth, this was his mind saying _he told you he was sorry_ \- This was Seth’s mouth on his and the back of his head hitting the papered wall behind him and a breath that felt like relief ghosting out of him.

Seth kissed him in earnest, deep and soft. Pressed his thumbs at the hinge of Dean’s jaw and hummed quietly and to Dean, it sounded like _thank you._ He broke off slowly, eyes down and Dean was choking all over again.

‘I suck at saying things when it matters.’ Seth said, so close Dean could smell something metallic on his skin. His eyes were so fucking big and dark and endlessly deep that really he never had to say another word. Dean could look at him and know it all.

‘Yeah, I noticed.’

‘So.’

‘Its okay. I know. Don’t hurt yourself, Jesus.’

Seth laughed quietly and gave him a gentle shove in the chest. ‘What I mean is, I’m done being that asshole. That’s a promise, okay. I’m different in more ways, and I wanna make it up to you. All the nasty, sick shit I did, I wanna try to make it right.’

There was something soft and warm filling Dean’s veins and he shuffled his feet, rubbed the back of his neck and tried to work through the perpetual awkwardness that was gluing up his words.

‘Okay.’ Was the best he could do. ‘I still kinda wanna punch you though.’

Seth held his hands up. ‘Free pass, I swear.’

Dean smiled. ‘So,’ he said again, searching Seth’s face. They were ridiculous. Fucking useless unless someone’s dick was involved.

‘So.’

‘Goodnight then, I guess.’

‘Yeah. Goodnight, Dean.’

Seth turned to go and made it four steps before he stopped. Dean hadn’t moved at all.

‘You know what, I just realised something.’ He held his hands up again. ‘I locked myself out of my own room.’ There was a stupid cheesy smile on his face and Dean rolled his eyes and pretended he didn’t know Seth planned this from the second he stepped into the corridor.

‘Then you’re lucky I’m in a forgiving mood. My room’s one floor down.’

Seth fell in beside him as Dean started to walk towards the glass doors.

‘Do you people even sleep?’ He blurted, side-eyeing Seth.

‘Of course we do, fuck, I’m not undead or anything I’m just-’

‘-This is nowhere near as weird as I thought it was going to be.’

‘You sound disappointed.’

‘We’ll see.’

 

 


End file.
